


clean eyes

by sungods



Series: sw sequel trilogy [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, M/M, Pining, Post-TRoS, finn being generally confused, finn finds his faaamily ooOoo, poe is jealous and dumb, there are NO straights in this star wars!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:07:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22528342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sungods/pseuds/sungods
Summary: The ones you care about do come back to you.
Relationships: Jessika Pava/Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn, Zorii Bliss/Jannah
Series: sw sequel trilogy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800052
Comments: 18
Kudos: 77





	clean eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Can you save me?  
> Oh, clean eyes, breakin' my heart in all the right ways and  
> No, I don't mind, clean eyes  
>   
> Oh, clean eyes, breakin' my heart and breakin' my chains and  
> I don't know why, clean eyes  
>   
> — Clean Eyes by SYML  
> 

Poe can't sleep.

It's nothing new. Even three months after the Battle of Exegol, after the Resistance had begun rebuilding, refining, hunting down the last dregs of the First Order (or the Last Order, which probably wasn't the smartest name anyway), Poe finds himself staring at the ceiling night after night. At first he thinks it might be stress, an unfortunate byproduct of trying to manage the many-headed bureaucratic monster that the Resistance is fast becoming, but even as what's left of the First Order tries to fight back, and he's thrown back into what he knows best, fighting the enemy, planning battles instead of attending diplomatic missions, Poe still can't sleep.

Then he guesses it might be the jungle. Or the lack of one, now that they'd cleared quite a few of the trees that had stood tall around the base. Leia wouldn't have liked it, he knows, but what choice did he have? They were training new pilots, new recruits were flocking in every day, inspired by Exegol, green and eager to help but without the skills to navigate the towering trunks of the ancient trees safely. A recruit had nearly killed themself _and_ Karé before Poe gave the order. He could imagine Leia's face as he turned away, hearing the saws roar to life, those great trees falling, one by one. _Protecting life is our duty_ , he'd once recalled her saying, some time long ago. And now the base hummed, electric-quiet in the dead of the night, devoid of the various animal noises of the jungle that had shielded it from enemy eyes. Poe had grown up with the sound of life, gone to bed every night with the music of the wild in his ears. But he'd fallen asleep with ease in the pressurized, sterile air of the Flight Academy, the great disc-shaped satellite that had orbited around Hosnian Prime. So it wasn't stress, or the jungle.

He realises, later, that it might just be Finn. 

Again, the lack of something he had grown used to, the comfort of a flight stabiliser, the sounds of the night, Finn by his side. Finn's bunk had been left empty for almost three months, ever since their trajectories as co-generals had thrust them into diverging paths, fighting the same war from two different ends. Poe handled the attack, the planetary diplomacy (although he suspected Finn would probably do the job a lot better than a hot-head of a pilot), the brunt of the battle against the fractured First Order. Finn went behind enemy lines, extracting as many of the Stormtrooper cadets as he could find, and reuniting them with the families that they'd been ripped from. They were both busy enough that their long holo talks dwindled from discussing anything from the ridiculous robes that the party from Coruscant had been wearing, to the insanely spicy soup that a thankful mother had offered Finn ( _Seriously Dameron, that sludge burned holes in my tongue!_ ), and now they barely had time to exchange formalities. Poe had gotten used to the sound of Finn's laughter, the easy smiles, the slow breathing from the other bunk as his friend slid easily to sleep. He's fighting a war that in almost all respects has already been won, but he still feels like he's lost something vital to him, like a lung or a heart. So Poe stares into the ceiling in the dark, wishing he wasn't so alone, waiting for the new day to bring some new battle to fight.

-

It's different, tonight. Finn's coming back.

It's almost embarrassing, the sudden surge of emotion that had swelled in his chest as he got the news. And now he's too awake to sleep, glancing at the time, waiting for 0700 hours, willing the shivering blue digits of the clock to move faster. He's too jittery to just lie there and wait, so he gets up, careful not to disturb D-O charging by the door, slipping on a jacket.

It's not just Finn, he reminds himself, as he pauses by his X-wing, running a hand over the scuffed paint, before deciding to not make that much noise and instead just take a walk to the edge of the forest. Rey is coming back too, apparently having decided Tatooine too distant from a galaxy still in need of help. Poe was surprised when he'd heard she was coming back with Finn. Not that he didn't like Rey, but he had been worried when she suddenly announced she was leaving, barely a week after the battle, taking Luke Skywalker's X-wing and BB-8. That haunted, distant look in her eyes. She'd refused to talk about what had happened on the ground at Exegol, and who could blame her? She'd faced down an evil capable of disabling all their ships in one strike, and she'd won. What had really worried him was the absolute silence after she'd gone. He had started to think she was just never coming back, until the transmission from Finn.

It's not just Finn, he reminds himself, as he steps over gnarled tree roots, fingers brushing by every damp trunk, silently apologising for cutting down their siblings. The sounds of the jungle pulse like a beating heart, and if he unfocuses, it's a little like Yavin-4. Jess is coming back too- behind one of the pilots he'd assigned to aid Finn in his mission. The remaining members of Black Squadron had scattered, some back home now that the war was dying down, but most still in the air across the galaxy. He'd opted to keep Karé with him, but they barely saw each other, and he didn't know what to say to her, not after Snap. He'd lost a best friend. She had lost her husband, and the father of their kid. She seemed alright, in the fleeting moments that he'd managed to steal to talk to her, but that drive to work, to push away all real feelings, was something he'd known enough in himself to recognise in her. Hopefully with Pava back, he could convince her to take a break, to grieve properly. Jess had always been better with emotions than he had. 

It's not just Finn, he reminds himself, as he sinks to the ground at the base of a tree, the branches so far away and so thick with leaves that they blot out the stars. It's BB-8, and Lando, and Jannah, and all the ex-Stormtroopers; it's the new ones too, the children with no homes left to go to, the ones Finn has managed to save from a life like the one he had. Stormtroopers who had laid down their weapons in exchange for mercy or who wanted to take up arms against the Order that had enslaved them. It was both a blessing and a nightmare, really. How was he supposed to check if these new soldiers had some kind of secret plan to destroy the fragile peace he and Finn and Rey had built? How was he supposed to convince the Resistance that these people could be trusted? 

Poe Dameron tips his face towards stars he cannot see, and breathes in the life around him, and listens, and waits. Birds are trilling awake overhead, but it might just be wishful thinking.

Finn is coming back. This is all there is.

-

Poe does not dwell on past experiences often. It’s out of practicality. He is a pilot, a commander, a General. His life is one battle to the next. He has orders to follow, orders to give, a war to win. Sometimes, though, in the quiet of the early morning, he runs over the last few years in his mind. He’s narrowed the war down to three moments, something to tell his father once he can come home.

One. Jakku. The blasted cold of a desert night. Standing, falling, the splintered remains of a TIE fighter strewn across the dark sand. A mission failed, a mind reeling, cracked open like an egg, scooped into the dirt, defiled, betrayed. He’d put on a brave face when the Stormtrooper had lifted his helmet off, but it had been like walking in a dream. The Stormtrooper. Finn. He’d saved his life, and Poe had offered him a name in return. He’d taken it. And then he had died. The utter failure of it all had felt almost as painful as Kylo Ren’s claws digging into Poe’s brain.

Lesson learnt? Think before you act. Look before you leap.

Do not break the trust you are given.

Two. Exegol. He heard it before he saw it, the screaming. The last sounds of one of his oldest friends as he was shot down from the sky. Snap Wexley, real name Temmin, who was always smiling, always on the move, dancing with Karé, chasing the droids, the sound of his fingers snapping as he spoke and thought and lived. And he screamed, the sound crackling over the comms, as Poe watched his X-wing explode into flames. He’d died just seconds after Lando had arrived with the cavalry. The senselessness of it all. Just a few weeks ago, he’d been swinging his giggling son high above his head, and now he was a smear on the surface of the Sith planet. 

Lesson learnt? Save as much time as you can. Scrape your hands bloody to keep it.

Remember the sound of your friend’s laughter.

Poe doesn’t have a solid moment for three. He knows the strongest stories have a core trio, three hearts burning, three stories to tell. He’ll figure it out, later, when he has time. The war is full of moments to remember. Lessons to learn. He has time.

(Poe is lying. He knows what the third moment is. He just hasn’t let himself think it through.)

-

The Millenium Falcon lets out a loud groan as she eases from the sky, and Poe tries to remember how old exactly the ship is. With all her mods, she's still one of the most reliable in their steadily growing fleet, and certainly the most awe inspiring. He'll have to find more parts to keep her running, or Chewie would probably rip his arm off.

As Luke's X-wing touches down beside the freighter, the door of the Falcon hisses open, and Poe forgets his exhaustion and his loneliness and his jealousy. He's running, and all he can see is Finn's bright smile before they collide, rocking backwards and forwards on the warm earth. He buries his face into Finn's shoulder, breathing his best friend in.

"Hi."

"General Dameron." He can feel Finn's smile and they let each other go, click off a mocking salute and just stare. Finn's hair has grown a little, and he's braided it back close against his scalp. He's got the beginnings of a beard too, and his jacket haphazardly embroidered with bright thread and beads. Finn notices him looking and flushes, tugging at the hem.

"I kept getting gifts from the families. Once we'd brought their kids back. Most of it was stuff like this. I just wanted to keep it with me. Not very _official_ and General-like, I know." Poe reaches out and runs a finger over a bright green thread, run with silver, that Finn's sewn through the collar of his jacket. He feels like his face might crack from how hard he's smiling, but he can't bring himself to stop.

"Nah buddy. It suits you. We can't all be as proper as Leia." Finn's smile turns a little sad and he claps Poe on the shoulder, making Poe wish he'd just kept his mouth shut. A loud whistle alerts Poe to the arrival of his droid, and he crouches down to hug BB-8 who begins excitedly rolling around his legs, almost knocking him into Finn.

"Buddy! Slow down, I can't understand you if you talk like that. Wait, if you're down, where's-"

"Poe!" Rey flings her arms around him and he laughs and swings her around, his chest feeling tight in a way he can't describe. This is what he's been waiting for, the most important people to him, all together. He sets her down and she beams at him. Her hair's grown out too, a little sunbleached, more tan then he's ever seen her.

"I thought I wasn't going to see you again," he blurts out, only vaguely aware of the crowd milling around them. Rey shakes her head, folding her arms.

"I had to come back, obviously. Imagine if I'd just left you two to run everything on your own. What happened to the trees?"

Poe winces. "Had to clear them for the landing space. We're not hiding anymore. Besides, you've cut down a few in your time."

Rey has the good grace to be embarrassed about her own unique deforestation methods and excuses herself to go look for Jessika, leaving Poe to sling his arm around Finn for a one-armed hug.

"I missed you." Finn's voice is low, and for some reason it makes Poe's heart stutter in his chest.

"You too man. It's been-"

"General Dameron? Where should we store the intruder missiles?" Poe lets out a sigh and turns to the techie pulling the crate out.

"Gev, where do we keep those? I've told you this like six times- and keep the lid on! Stars-"

Finn pats him on the back, a wry smile on his face. 

"I'm gonna go help with the unloading, have a minute in the fresher. Cool?" Poe smiles back.

"Of course. See you at dinner?"

"You bet." And with that, Finn is gone, and Poe feels like he still he's forgotten to say something important.

"Sir?"

"Uh, yes. Yeah." It can wait. He has duties.

-

It starts when Poe arrives at the mess hall, feeling lighter than he has in weeks, and Finn is not there.

"What?" He asks Jess, who is moodily twirling a green noodle around her fork. She's sunburnt and there's still a grease stain on her nose, though Poe decides to let that be. She frowns into her bowl and twists harder.

"Finn's out in the forest somewhere with Rey. They'll be back in an hour or two, maybe."At the look on his face, she shrugs halfheartedly.

"They used to do this a lot when we were out too. Like, when we weren't blowing holes in the First Order's training camps. Just… go off together." She waves her fork and the noodle hurls itself across the room. "I thought it was gonna stop when we got back here, but guess I was wrong."

Poe hates what's rising in his chest right now, but he asks anyway. "How long has Rey been with you guys?"

Pava hums, scooping up another noodle, sucking it up thoughtfully. "Like a few weeks now, I guess. She's got a new lightsaber, did you see? It's yellow." 

"I didn't notice." _I was too busy looking at Finn. Why didn't he tell me he was with Rey?_

"Well, yeah. You're not the most observant type." She wacks him with the back of her hand, and he jostles her back, trying to bury his worsening mood with a smile. "How have you been? I'm surprised the Resistance hasn't fallen apart under you. You been overworking, Dameron?"

"'Course not. You know me. Fly hard, drink harder."

"You're an idiot. Anyway, if you want to actually relax, you should come to the pilot's lounge after. We're having a reunion party. All pilots plus a plus one. You could bring your boy."

"He’s not- Finn’s just- I've got paperwork to do, Pava. Maybe later." Is he blushing? Stars, he hopes not.

"Yeah, you're working way too hard. C'mon, just one drink. We learnt your co-general's tolerance, by the way. It's exactly one glass of Corellian. I saw him dance. Not terrible for an ex-Stormtrooper. Rey almost fell over from laughing." 

A headache is building behind Poe's eyes. "I've got work, Pava. Promise I'll come hang out later. Promise." He finishes his noodles, leaving the weird shrimp bits that he doesn't like. Pava takes his bowl and tips it into her own. He'd authorised some of the newer recruits with fishing backgrounds to routinely make the half an hour walk to the ocean, and they'd come back with some of the freshest food the Resistance had been able to get in a while. Now every meal had fish or shrimp or some other thing in it, and wasn't it just a shame Poe didn't like seafood?

She punches him in the hip as he gets up, and he pretends to wince, though he can’t help the smile playing over his lips, despite his black mood and his anxiety over Finn. He’s missed Jess too much for it to show. 

"You know, I could have you grounded for that."

"You could _try_. Don't be a stranger, Dameron. We’ve won. Just live a little."

-

Poe’s been staring at the cracked ceiling above his bunk for what feels like hours when he hears the gentle hiss of the door opening, signalling Finn’s return. He snaps his eyes shut before Finn can notice he’s awake. The sick, crushing weight in his chest hasn’t lessened and his head is pounding. He doesn’t know what he’d say to Finn, even if he wanted to. He has no right to be angry. No right to be upset with him for anything. How did this happen? He’s been waiting for Finn to come back for months, and now that he’s here, he can’t even look at him for fear of what he might say.

Finn brings with him the smell of the jungle and coming rains, and quietly curses to himself as he shucks off his damp clothes and drops them at the foot of his bed before shuffling off to the ‘fresher. When Poe hears the sound of the jets start, he opens his eyes and exhales, shakily, hating the way his eyes burn. He turns, buries his face in his pillow, breathes into the covers until Finn comes out.  
“Poe? You awake?” Poe squeezes his eyes shut, hard, like a child, sparks swirling behind his eyelids. He can’t speak. He can’t. His emotions feel like a dam building up inside him, and if he let it go, he has no idea what will come out.

Silence for a moment, and then—

“Goodnight Poe.” A pause, and so quietly that Poe half wonders he imagines it, “Sweet dreams.”

-

(The third story of the war, something he might tell his father when he comes home to that little homestead by the river, something to tell as he sits on the porch, something to remember until he’s old and the galaxy is at peace. A lesson for those who came before, a message for those who come after.)

Three. D’Qar, before it was blown to smithereens. Battle-high, still hungry for the skies, and a _miracle_ , running over the tarmac into his arms. A brilliant smile he’d seen only once and had already prepared to lose, suddenly real, something he could touch, back again. Something affirmed, a safety net, a promise that sometimes impossible, insane, beautiful things come true. Poe had never been religious, barely believed in the Force anymore, had always earned his victories on his own merit, with his own hands and sweat and blood. But that day, some kind god had given him a gift that he could never, not in a million years, truly repay.

Lesson learnt? Sometimes the universe can be kind. Sometimes it is worth hoping for something more.

The ones you care about do come back to you.  


-

Poe throws himself into his work for the next two weeks, and really, there is a lot of work to do. There’s still quite a few systems firmly under First Order control, and coordinating attacks on them, even in their diminishing strength, never leaves room for error. Dozens of Resistance cells have popped up across the galaxy and managing them all to work _together_ is mind numbing work, especially as old rivalries and conflicting interests flare up. When they had been in open war against the First Order, at least the circle was tight enough to work together on its own, or at least Leia had always made it seem so. In Poe’s hands, the Resistance is as fragile as a baby bird, glass bones straining for flight that it’s not prepared for yet. He’s constantly calling and negotiating and managing and _stars he’s exhausted-_

(He doesn’t need to be there, all the time, he knows this. The commanders working under him are more than capable of working out things on their own, and sometimes he has to fight the urge to just let them do their job without him hovering like a sleep deprived, anxious mother hen. He _is_ needed, just not all the time, but he knows that when he’s not needed, he’ll have to go back to his room, to the comfortable chaos, the sketch covered walls, trinkets and souvenirs from distant systems. And to look at the other bunk, the space where Finn’s filled, and realise that he’s still missing him, but this time, it’s Poe’s fault for not letting him back inside.)

(He can sleep again though, the familiar sound of Finn’s soft breathing lulling him to the few hours he can spare, before he forces his eyes open again. Rinse and repeat. Waking earlier and coming back later means he doesn’t have to face Finn’s searching gaze.)

( _Where did you go? Why aren’t you talking to me? What did_ I _do?_ )

He desperately wants to say: _Don’t you know, Finn? It’s my fault. It’s always been my fault._

What he says instead: Nothing at all.

Something he’s noticed about Stormtroopers, now that he’s met more than just Finn, is how open they are. The helmets that guarded their identities, hid their humanity, had branded them monsters to the Resistance, had unintended side effects on how well they could hide their emotions. He barely knows Jannah, had worked with her so briefly before she’d gone off with Finn, but her emotions show on her face as easy as reading a holo.

And Finn, whose face Poe knows better than his own? A face he’s spent hours and hours watching, memorising, over the dejarik table on the Falcon, across the room as they run over strategies and contingency plans, a face he falls asleep watching. A face he could paint in his dreams. It frightens Poe, how easy he can read the words Finn won't say, and it scares him even more at the idea Finn could do the same to him.

So he's grateful that there’s always something to do and something to work on and he doesn’t have the mental space to deal with Finn and Rey and everything he feels, a hard knot of simmering _something_ deep in his chest. He can see the bonds he’d valued so much slipping away, but he’s too tired to care.

Or at least, that’s what he tells himself when he pretends not to see the hurt on Finn’s face. 

-

Seventeen days after Finn comes home, Poe finds himself in Command, arguing- well, aggressively negotiating- with yet another holo of a stubborn, silver spoon-fed senator from a rich planet unwilling to send them resources but more than happy to be a nuisance. He’s losing patience, quickly, and it must show, even as he fights to keep his tone even and calm. 

“ _General Dameron, you cannot expect us to send more of our flagships. We’ve been decimated by the First Order, you must understand-_ ”

“What I _understand_ is that the two that have arrived are defectors from your extensive fleet. Your commanders fired on them as they attempted to leave, and they’re damaged because of it. Senator, you can’t pledge support in words only, you are enabling other systems to suffer as your people have suffered-”

“ _Do not hold me accountable for the problems of other systems, Dameron. General Organa would not have demanded our lives be put on the line like this. Until you see sense, we will maintain our fleet’s position. May the Force be with you._ ” The last part is spat mockingly, and Poe closes his eyes and fights to not lose his temper as the blue hologram fizzes out. A year ago, he might have exploded, kicked chairs over, vowed to not ever lift a finger to help those fucking morons-

He opens his eyes and Commander D’Acy is watching him, something in her eyes he can’t quite read.

“I kind of fucked that up, didn’t I?” He says, a little awkwardly, and she shakes her head, a slight smile on her lips.

“You handled it as well as you could, General Dameron. Leia would’ve been proud of you.” She turns back to her work and Poe realises the look in her eyes had been pride.

The comm on his hip buzzes and he unclips it, working on autopilot. This was a private line, Black Squadron only, had been silent for months now. He’d barely realised that he’d put it on this morning.

“ _Black Leader, come in_ ,” Jess Pava’s dry tone hums through the line, clipping the edges of her words with an electronic hiss.

“This really isn’t a fantastic time now Pava-”

“ _Meet me on the beach. This isn’t negotiable. I need to talk to you, now_.” A flat tone signalling that she’s ended her call. Poe hooks the comm back on his belt, irritated, exhausted, confused. What the hell does Jess want him on the beach for?

“We can handle things here General,” D’Acy says, not looking up, eyes on the holoscreen in front of her. “Go.”

He pauses, weighing it over, then eyes the room. Fully staffed, working like a well oiled machine, and the next planetary meeting wasn’t due until the next morning. D’Acy nods at him, and he’s gone, walking as fast as he can without being undignified.

-

Jessika is sitting by the water when Poe arrives, a little out of breath. He’d given up on propriety when he reached the treeline and had run most of the way here. Jess certainly doesn’t seem to be in any kind of urgent danger, barefoot and hair down, her hands tracing lines in the sand. He stands beside her, hoping that his _I don’t have time for this_ vibes are getting through.

“Dameron. You took your sweet time.” Jess sounds lighter then she did last they spoke, her irritation aimed at him rather then… whatever it was she’d been so upset about.

“What’s this about, Jess? I’m busy.”

“Yeah, I know. Everyone knows you’re busy.”

“Hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sit down and shut up, Dameron.” She pats the empty sand next to her and Poe sits, heavier than he intended. _Stars, he’s tired._

Jess frowns at him. “When was the last time you got a decent night’s sleep?”

He doesn’t see a point in arguing with her. “Can’t remember.” She whistles, her face softening somewhat. 

“You’re a dead man walking. You seriously need to stop working. Take a break.”

“Jess, I’m trying to run the-”

“Resistance, I know, but you’ve got help. You’ve got friends and people who’ve got your back. You don’t have to do this all by yourself, stupid.” 

“I know. I just- I’m trying to make Leia proud.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. She wouldn’t have wanted you run into the ground like this. Besides, you made Finn general too. Ease off a bit. It’s not going to fall apart. We’ve come too far for that.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching the sun sink towards the distant horizon. Poe’s never been one for swimming, his head made for the sky, not the sea. But there’s something about the gently lapping waves that make him want to just sink in and float away.

“You’re avoiding us. Finn, Rey, me. We’ve noticed.” Jess’s voice isn’t accusatory, just patient enough that it breaks his heart. He nods in response, eyes fixed on the surf. “Why are you doing this, Poe? What are you afraid of?”

It takes him a while to respond. 

“I don’t know how to… sit with you guys anymore. Talk like we all used to. Like a family. I feel sick all the time, especially because-” His voice hitches a little, and Jess slings an arm around his shoulders, a silent comfort.

“I’m jealous… of Rey. I shouldn’t be, but I am. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Poe, they’re not together.” Jess taps him on the cheek, making him look her in the eyes. “Finn and Rey. I know I made it sound like they were, but I was wrong. You’ve got nothing to be jealous of.”

“They aren’t? How do you-”

“Rey kissed me.” Poe fully turns to look at her, at the red blooming its way up her face.

“Seriously? When did this happen?” He feels the grin creep its way up his face, and she’s smiling too, looking embarrassed and soft in a way he’s never seen her before.

“A week ago. Maybe. We’re dating I think. We’re both new to this. I don’t know.” She shakes her head, still smiling like an idiot, and he bumps her with his shoulder. This… makes sense. They're the 2nd and 3rd scariest women he’s ever known (behind Leia of course, who used to make him feel about eight years old when she was disappointed in him). 

“You’ll make it. You fit each other,” he says, and she mouths a careful thanks as she props her chin on her knees, watching him. There’s a load he didn’t know he’d been carrying, getting lighter and floating away.

“So... you know why they sneak off to the jungle now?” 

“It’s not my place to tell you. But seriously Dameron, ease up. No one is having fun when you’re both making tragic puppy eyes at each other from across the room. Just talk to Finn. Before I drop BB-8 on your head.” The words are a threat but he can hear the smile in her voice.

“I don’t know, Jess. I don’t really know- I mean, I don’t get. This. How to handle it. I don’t know what to call it. What I’m feeling.” He sounds like a nervous teenager, and hell, maybe he is. He hasn’t had a serious relationship in almost a decade, and this delicate thing unfurling in his chest is brand new to him, a kind of spark that refuses to die.

“So how does Finn make you feel?”

Poe stares over the water, rubbing his fingers into the sand, the world oddly muted around him. His lips taste like salt. He can feel Jess’s eyes on him, and he lets out a slow breath, eyes on the horizon.

( _How can he explain it? The way Finn moves through the world, always wondering, hoping, always to the sky. How he looks you straight in the eyes, his humour, his honest, bright smile, unflinching, as radiant as any sun. The way he puts his whole heart into everything he does. The strength of his hands, the way his lips soften before he sleeps. His eyes, dark as the spaces between the stars, so clear and beautiful it makes Poe’s heart break._ )

( _There are a million things about Finn that Poe isn’t ready to say out loud._ )

“Calmer, I guess. Everything slows down when I’m with him. Like when I’m flying.” The sun is dipping lower now, settling into the sea. He’s probably needed, back at the base, but right now he’d rather just sit here instead of facing reality.

“Just talk to him. Be honest.”

He laughs, brushing his hands free of sand. Be honest. The sky’s a deep purple now, flecked red and gold. 

“I’m not the best at honesty, Jess. Especially if I’m scared.”

“Don’t be. What have you got to lose?”

**Author's Note:**

> this mess was the collective effort of [@jedisentinels](https://jedisentinels.tumblr.com/) and [@nevvarro](https://nevvarro.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


End file.
